


Godfire

by wickedlore



Series: Drarry AUs [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fae, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Drarry, Eventual Smut, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Good Pansy Parkinson, Lesbian Pansy Parkinson, M/M, Mates, Mermaids, Mild Smut, Pansmione - Freeform, Romantic Fluff, Smut, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-09-16 15:00:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16956171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wickedlore/pseuds/wickedlore
Summary: In a fantastical Scottish town where faerie hunt goes wild at midnight and mermaids swim in the rivers, Harry meets the town's local demigod, while Pansy longs after a lovely mermaid.





	1. Part One

     When he was first born, the locals claimed Harry Potter, the gifted son of two soldiers recently returned from war, was a demigod. He could spit fire from between his lips like a dragon, fly in the wind like a faerie, and breathe underwater as if he were mer. Lily and James Potter kept quiet about how they could do the same, as they were decedents of the respective dragon of the Nile in Egypt and a faerie duke, but Harry loved to spread the gossamer wings he inherited from his mother and breathe the white fire he inherited from his father into the world, filling the minds of the locals with dreams of patchwork faerie parties — to which Harry was more than welcome to attend — and swimming beneath white capped waves in an ocean the color of golden summer wine.

     After Harry was born, Pansy arrived, with her gold leaf skin and eyes like the night, and then came Petunia, with her fingertips trailing candy colored faerie dust through the air, and emerald tipped gills that were hidden beneath a shower of rose red curls. And there were the magical Potter children, Harry and Pansy and Petunia, who could fly like their mother and swim like their father and cast spells more powerful than any true faerie tribe.

🌿🌿🌿

     Harry's eerily green eyes were trained on Petunia as she climbed the whispering tree, leaving a rainbow of fingerprints along the branches. The day was warm, like summer — in the small, almost unknown town of Kellon, only the occasional shower of sweet, summer rain disturbed the eternal spring, due to the faeries and sprites that inhabited the woods. Harry ran his hand through the blue-tipped grass, which moved on its own accord without wind, almost purring as he felt a barrage of nature's laughter warm his cooling veins.

     Of the many gifts his parents had given him, that one was his favorite — he could sing with the wind, talk to the wyrms that writhed beneath the fields of Kellon, and play games of chess with jewel toned hummingbirds. Everything had a soul, each one more eccentric than the last.

     Beside him, Pansy was silent, her eyes, black like nobody before her, lost reading the invisible stars. That was her favorite gift — she could read the stars like they were pages in a book, and liked to do so often. Though she was the only Potter child that had their mother's porcelain pale skin, she looked the most like their father. Her skin was dark as autumn leaves, though threaded with actual, rippling gold, her freckles scattered across her enviously clear face like entire galaxies, and pin straight, raven black hair that was sheered off right before her shoulders. She was the middle child, almost sixteen years old. Harry himself was eighteen, while little Petunia was but eleven.

     "Pansy," Harry said softly, his layered voice causing the grass to bend. "What are you reading?"

     When he spoke, her eyes went dark as amber. "I don't know, for once," she said gravely. "It seems like two of us are to meet good fortune, and the others luck darker than night."

     "Or maybe they're one in the same," Harry mused, and Pansy didn't respond.

     When he looked up, he found Petunia's hazel eyes boring into his, her hands on his shoulders.

     He batted her hands aside. "You'll ruin my blouse!" he exclaimed, fussing at the stains that were already setting in.

     She only laughed. "So vain, brother." Suddenly, her mood went black. "However, there is something beyond the woods, Harry, that calls your name. Not Harry, no, but rather your true name. Nobody is supposed to know your true name but the faerie queen, and I'm afraid that is who calls upon you."

     "I doubt I'm that important, Pansy, that a queen would call upon me."

     "I never said that was who called."

     "I'm aware, but who else would know a name kept secret as mine?" he asked, and she was quiet for a moment.

     "Draconus, perhaps."

     "...Draconus?"

     "The local spirit, a true demigod." Her mood went light once more. "Perhaps it wants to find a mate," she teased.

     Harry looked aghast. "Mating, with a demigod? You know the stories... bursting into flames, and such."

     "But those are stories about humans," she complained, sitting down next to him. "We're not... human."

     "We are," Harry said firmly. "Just... different."

     "Different is an understatement," Pansy murmured, her eyes still trained to the sky. "We are human, yet not completely. We do not apply to that folklore."

     Petunia huffed, but otherwise made no sound, turned her head away from both Pansy and Harry. For a split second, Pansy let her eyes move away from the day shadows of the stars, and grinned at Harry.

🌿🌿🌿

     The woods in the night were the most beautiful Harry had ever seen them. Though mortal eyes could not even begin to grasp the sight that awaited the gifted, the Potter siblings and their parents could see the wonder, the lights, the shimmer. That night, Harry roamed the forest, admiring his surroundings. Trees that were otherwise drab as dishcloths in the day were alight with fairy dust beneath the moon, a rainbow of soft pastels and violent neons and dark hues. The mulch shifted every so often to reveal the spine of the Kellon dragon, with the soft copper that drifted through its iridescent scales as if on a phantom wind, and the rather blinding turquoise blue that was drawn like ribbons through the ridges on its back. As it passed beside Harry, placed a hand on its flank, leaving behind a silver handprint.

     When he rounded the corner of a crop of trees, he was stopped by the sight of the faerie hunt. Beside him, a white horse with shimmers of violet in its fur stared with purely black eyes at Harry, its comically narrow snout and neck ridges making it appear dragon kin. Its legs, dripping with violet hair, bent inward so dramatically that it looked about to snap. The rope like tail was split in two, hair sprouting from the ends. Its rider was very similar — it was a pure white, human like being, with lush lips that were tinted blue and bug like black eyes that were overly intelligent. Long limbs and a single braid of golden hair that was coiled around its head, complete with fox like ears that were on the side of its face and shining deer horns that couldn't be less than two feet, made it look like something out of a horror story. When he looked to its back, he found sparkling, green wings that fluttered like butterflies from its back.

     "Hello," Harry said, and respectively bent down to touch his forehead to the horse's curled hoof. It whinnied melodically.

     "Harry, son of James and Lily, descendant of the house of Griffin," the faerie responded, its eyes unblinking. "I am Lucius, head of the house of Slither. How may we be of your service?" 

     Harry rose to his feet, surprised by the offer of service. "I thank you, Slitherborne. I have heard of a demigod whispering my true name through the forest, looking for me. Do you know what I am referring to?"

     "I know all, Griffinborne. Like your sister said, yes, the spirit's name is Draco. He is a protector of Kellon, and a reject of house Slither."

     "He is faerie?"

     "Not quite. Half faerie, half god, that one is. A bad combination."

     "A peculiar name."

     "Not his true one, but a demigod name. His faerie name is Draconus Malfynus."

     "Malfynus... he's the son of the faerie queen?"

     "I am afraid so," the faerie's voice changed, but Harry could not recognize  how so. "You will find him on the banks of the Ilvern River, at the edge of the forest. Be warned — he is not one to be trifled with... so bring green tea."

     When Harry blinked, and the faerie hunt was gone, as if they had never been there in the first place. 


	2. Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A continuation of Part One, where Pansy and Harry begin to explore the forest.

     Almost two moon cycles later, the forest had gone gold with the coming of autumn. Harry watched as Pansy conversed with a small, violently blue sprite, Pansy's raven mane of hair like a cool wind, and her dark eyes like dying stars. She looked quite the autumn faerie, especially with the golden leaf set into her skin like miniature suns, and the way the orange light of their setting star reflecting off of her mirrored legs. Petunia had stayed behind —  a strange flu had befallen her, yet their mother assured them it wasn't serious, and, anyway... that meant the two eldest Potter siblings could do things they couldn't do with the younger.

     "Harry, would you like to come with me to the stream? The sprite told me the mer would be there tonight." Pansy's rough voice interrupted Harry's train of thought. He turned to her, his mind still foggy with daydream dust.

     "The mer?"

     "That's what I said, isn't is?"

     "Well, yes," Harry felt his face go hot.

     And, for a moment, he recalled what the faerie hunter Lucius had told him of Draconus, and his heart gave a peculiar feeling that he couldn't quite place the source of.

     "Are you referring to Ilvern River, perhaps?" Harry asked, his voice noticeably different.

     Pansy brushed it off with phantom fingers. "Aye, a tributary just to the east of it. Why?"

     "Not a reason, Pansy... not a reason," he murmured, and, while setting his dragon-like eyes to gaze at the rising moon, followed his sister into the dim.

🌿🌿🌿

     They were hidden amongst the sprite lights. Around them, lustful laughter like the bubbles of champagne rang in the air, while the buzzing of wings was like a sweet, drowsy drug. Harry and Pansy fought against the lull of their magic, focusing their eyes on the beauty of the arriving mer.

     The first was that of the sea floor. Its hair was wild and fiery red, with eyes a dark, soulful tone. Jagged peaks of bleached coral rose from its rough, sandy skin, while its smooth torso and black, slippery tail marked it as a male. The next was female, with her flowing dorsals. She was that of white capped waves and stormy waters, with fierce, iridescent eyes that gleamed in the moonlight and tough, gray skin hardened against rain. From her head rose intimidating horns of yellowed bone and what appeared to be rotting driftwood, while her tail was a flat, monochrome blue pocked with holes and barnacles. Her hair flowed behind her like a living flame, the same color as the male's. The final mer, the most beautiful, had such a striking appearance that Ais's breath unwillingly whooshed from her body. The creature shimmered gold, as if taken from the molten seas of Morne, with wild, dark brown hair that went undisturbed by the shifting water and narrow eyes the color of the late night sky. The mer, her papery, dawn-pink dorsals moving gracefully in the river, her shimmering scales flashing from beneath the blue, turned her attention upon the two Potters.

     Harry caught his breath and squeezed his eyes shut, expecting her to let out a bone-rattling wail, one that would send her comrades howling, however, she stayed silent, a curious look entering those gorgeous eyes. Harry, deeply unsettled, turned to his sister.

     "I... I think I may leave for bit, if that's okay, and if you feel safe," he said uncertainly, his stare repeatedly snapping back to sunrise mer.

     Pansy nodded, entranced. "Yeah, yes." Her voice was unusually soft.

     As he began to leave, her older brother paused, pursing his lips. "Just—just promise me you won't go in the water, okay?"

     She snorted, and inclined her head to offer a scathing look. "Yeah. And while I'm at it, I may as well go steal a dragon's bounty. Go look for your demigod, Harry. I'll be just fine."

     Flushed from the antagonizing speech, Harry trekked away, tempted to drag her back to the Potter cottage. His eyes trained on the whispering, sifting mulch, he almost missed the movement flickering in the corner of his eye... almost.

     He moved quickly, his eyes darting to fix themselves on the space where he saw the movement. Strangely enough, the small spot beneath a scarlet-leafed tree shimmered with magic, the bright sparkles making Harry blink twice.

     To follow, or not to follow? So, well, if you're familiar with the Potter family, there's one thing they're rather good at... being reckless.

🌿🌿🌿

     Meanwhile, at the river, Pansy's hands were clenched so tightly around the branch that her gold tipped knuckles turned white as porcelain. She stared, her mouth slightly agape, at the three mermaids, their language shifting to something she understood as it met her ears with the sound of siren song.

     If there was one thing Pansy Parkinson-Potter was, it was secretive. She enjoyed keeping things to herself, especially the tales of the dark satin nights she spent with a faerie hunter named Blaise during her sixteenth birth month but a month and a half earlier, and, most of all, the dragon gift she inherited from her father. In every word, she found understanding, no matter the language. In other words, to her, every dialect was universal.

     So, as she stood there, gazing at the mer with such longing it made her knees quake, she heard the words they spoke.

     "This is a relief," the first mer sang, his voice dark and rough, like the night, despite his pale appearance. "I cannot stand another moment of your sisters discussing the prince from the Eastern Bay..." He was addressing the sunrise mer.

     In response, she blinked rapidly, almost as if a type of expression. "I am aware. They are irritating, and I would rather not spend the rest of my days chasing after an easterner! No offense to you, Ginevra."

     Ginevra, the other female mer, bared her needle teeth in a grin. "My people are not the most attractive, I will admit, nor agreeable. However, we are tougher than the rest."

     The male nodded in agreement. "Yes. Your sisters should be chasing after one of us westerners. We are the fairest, after all."

     "But only in appearance, Ronald," the sunrise mer said in a velvet voice, her tone making pleasant chills snake down Ais's spine. "Your people need to... ah, how is it said by the humans? Keep calm?"

     Ronald's laugh was a bark. "That is true. Why will they not hunt their own kind, then? You southerners are much more... eh..."

     "Stuck up?" Ginevra suggested, and the three's grating laughter slipped through the trees.

     "Yes, that sounds correct," the sunrise mer said deviously, before quite abruptly wheezing into the palm of her hand. Immediately, worry filled up the other two's faces.

     "We will retrieve karroweed, Matriarch," the male whispered sullenly, and the two slipped beneath the water, heading back towards the open sea.

     For a moment, the sunrise mer was quite, hunched over her hand, her breathing rattled, until she looked up with inhuman speed and made eye contact with Pansy. Pansy held her breath.

     "Human," the mer said quietly, her voice raspy, despite the silky tone she held earlier. "Come, where I may see you."

     With the mer, requests were nonexistent. Their words were to be followed with reverence. So, struck with silence, Pansy emerged from the glowing twin trees, her chin raised proudly, her night sky hair shifting and falling into her face. She moved it away with a quick huff of air.

     If mer had eyebrows, Pansy had no doubt the sunrise mer would be raising them at that moment. "So, human, you can understand me. What do they call you?"

     "Pansy," she breathed, swallowing thickly. "And you?"

     The mer tilted her head, her eyes suddenly going from velvet blue to a sharp, stony black.

     "Do they not teach you of the seas, human, where you come from? Do they not teach you of the mer, and the naiads, and the nymphs?"

     "I am afraid not."

     The mer made an irritated noise. "All is well, then. It is but not supposed to be known by mankind. But for you, I bestow the gift of my name. They call me Hermione, and I am the Monarch of all mer."

🌿🌿🌿

     Harry was high on the feeling of hunting once more. His muscles burned, longing for the taste of faerie ambrosia to soothe the ever pleasant pain, while his mind was sharp as a faerie's arrow, stuck on the taste of prey. He supposed that was the faerie in him — always hungry, and always thirsty. Never sated. His wings vibrated with excitement, lifting him just enough that his nimble journey was eased in the slight. He had not yet seen more movement, and yet, the trail of light so bright it hurt his eyes beckoned to him, called his name like Draconus.

     He skidded to a halt as the trail abruptly ended, its vibrance diminishing in the cold of the river water. At that moment, Harry knew in his bones, in his heart, in his soul, that he was on the banks of the Ilvern River.

     The biting water lapped at his bare feet, numbing the aching toes, while a sharp wind pricked at his cheeks. Suddenly cold, he licked the rip of his index finger, his nail alighting like a match in the wake of his tongue. The dragonfire warmed his entire body, until he was humming with energy.

     Ever since the day he noticed his name being called on a distant wind, he heard it all the time, the warm sound accompanied by the urge to jump. Jump. He had never quite understood it, until that moment. And, so, relishing his last moment of true warmth, Harry extinguished the flame dancing on the tip of his finger and leapt into the cold.

🌿🌿🌿

     "A... a Monarch?" Pansy mumbled, her eyes, burning from the cold, widening dramatically.

     "Yes, human," Hermione said, sounding quite amused. She slid around the water silently for a moment, studying Pansy. The girl's ample curves made the mer's stomach hum peculiarly, while the wildness in the girl's tousled, black hair, fierce eyes, and pink tongue that darted in and out of her mouth made the mer's lips turn with a strange sense of joy.

     There was a moment of silence, in which human and mer studied each other, their black and gold gazes clashing with such sparks it was impossible to turn away from one another.

     "You can come swim with me, if you desire," Hermione said smoothly, tracing her barbed fingertip across the surface of the lazy tributary. Seeing the girl's reluctance, she let out a laugh. However, instead of grating, the Monarch's laugh was all sugar and honey. "I do not bite, Pansy. Unless you like that kind of stuff."

     The word soundeds strange in the creature's mouth, a type of strange that sent Pansy's heart into a fit. So, against her better judgement, she nodded slowly.

     "I... okay."

     As the mer watched, Pansy slowly pealed off her tunic and pants, revealing twisting patterns of gold leaf and galaxies of cinnamon freckles. Her undergarments went next, and the girl stood there, stretching, looking warm as if it were summer instead of a cold, autumn night.

     She gave a look at the mer, one that sent Hermione's stomach whirling.

     "Is it warm?" Pansy asked, suddenly reluctant for another reason.

     The question drew a frown from the mer. "I do not know. To me, perhaps, though I am told it is called a hot spring." And sure enough, Pansy noticed the steam rising from the edges of the tributary, warming her legs.

     "But... it's a river," the girl protested, and Hermione smiled with sharp teeth.

     "When I am in water, it warms around me. You have nothing to fear, unless you are unable to swim."

     And, letting out an uncharacteristically light laugh, Pansy stepped into the summer warm water.

🌿🌿🌿

     The river water froze Harry down to his bones. It crawled in his skin like a living thing, writhing and crawling and howling like a hurricane. But in the cold, he found a type of warmth, one that only comes from a cold so harsh and deep it eats like fire. His head aching, Harry shut his eyes roughly. The water was already swimming in the depths of their green like painful tears. And, just as suddenly as the cold had arrived, it disappeared entirely, replaced with a warmth that felt like a warm blanket. Harry opened his eyes slowly.

     Instead of feeling pain, it was just as if he were opening them above water. Everything was clear, and when he looked up, he could see the choppy surface, distilled by the occasional passing of a curious nymph. They peered down at him with their intelligent eyes, purring and clicking at him before darting away.

     He sluggishly raised his hand, and licked his finger, only to find that the flame that erupted was, instead of a warm orange, a shocking white. He studied it for a moment, frowning.

     "Harry Potter, son of the fire and the earth. Welcome." The voice was a rumbling symphony, layered as a harmony. Harry's arms prickled with goosebumps, but not from the cold. When he looked slightly to the left, he found an over-bright form drifting, its limbs nimble and lean. Harry squinted.

     "I... Draconus?"

     "Yes, that is what I am called." The creature, the demigod, noted Harry's discomfort. "I am sorry, am I too bright? I can dull myself, if it pleases you so."

     "Yes, that would be nice."

     And, so, Harry Potter got his wish. As the demigod's brightness dimmed, his true beauty was revealed to the human boy. His features were delicate and prominent, with dagger cheekbones and a jaw line that could cut. His skin was a white with a golden glow, his hair a pale, white gold blond, and eyes so blue they pierced through the sapphire tinted water like searchlights. He was slim and petite, in fact, shorter than Harry, only wearing a black blouse that floated on the current and loose, silver threaded pants.

     Harry felt his mouth drop as Draconus's tilted in a smile. "Y-you're beautiful," the boy stammered, making himself flush. The demigod smiled.

     "Nobody has told me that in a long time. But... call me Draco. Draconus is too formal."

     There was a beat of pleasant silence, in which the two stared at each other, their gazes burning forest green and ice blue and spitting sparks like fireworks.

     "Why did you bring me here?" Harry eventually asked, the pace of his heart making him breathless. "Why have you been calling for me?"

     Draco's lips twitched. "Ah, so you have been listening to little Pansy." For a moment, he went quiet, and cocked his head before chuckling. "Well, not so little now, I suppose. Seventeen. What a milestone. Of course, I have been over seventeen for thousands of years, but I remember it... somehow."

     "Yes, she's been listening. More often than I'd like to admit," Harry said, smiling sheepishly. "She likes the idea of me meeting somebody almost too much. And, a demigod?" He exhaled through his teeth. "Well, you know, she reads all these stories. And, ah, our lives practically are those stories. Though, I always though meeting a god, or a demigod for that matter, was a little... extreme."

     Draco chuckled, and moved closer to Harry, causing the boy to inhale sharply. "Nothing is extreme to me. I am used to everything, as-"

     "You have been alive for thousands of years?" Harry said, and Draco's face went sharp as glass.

     "Yes," he snapped, then, recognizing his tone, sobered. "I apologize. I have not had human company for quite awhile. The nymphs and mer are accustomed to bluntness."

     Harry smiled awkwardly. "It's okay." He then paused, and focused his energy for a moment, then startled as he felt a sudden tug in the bottom of his stomach. "Did... did you feel that?"

     Apparently, Draco had, because the demigod's face was getting increasingly paler. "That is not supposed to happen quite so soon," he said quietly, suddenly avoiding Harry's gaze. "That... well, okay. It is a powerful thing, for those who have just met."

     "What is?"

     "Our bond. Achbreinja. Whatever you would like me to call it. It is... it is what binds two souls together, like loves, or, in better words, mates."

     Harry inhaled sharply. "So, Pansy was correct."

     "About what?"

     "She assumed that the reason you were calling my name was because you were looking for a mate."

     "She was correct. However, I was only looking. I never knew that you - a halfling, for the sake of the gods - would truly be my mate!" His incredulousness shifted into excitement. He whirled around and grabbed Harry's hands, dragging him through the water.

     "This is quite incredible, don't you see? I never-"

     Harry ripped his hands from the demigod's with clear effort. "No."

     Draco's face went smooth. "Excuse me?"

     "No, you can't just do that!" Harry was slowly beginning to panic, his breath coming out in short gasps.

     "...do what?"

     "Spring on me, so abrupt, that we are mates! That... that is not... just... no."

     Draco's face was so stony, and it was beginning to frighten the green eyed boy. "You do know what having a mate means, yes?"

     "Uh..." Harry's mind came out blank.

     "Of course. A mate, to faeries, naiads, mer... well, you understand what I am trying to convey. Mates are two creatures that hold a bond so powerful only death can shatter. This bond occurs once in a millennia, almost never twice for mortals! And yet — I have not encountered mine. Ever, despite my being immortal. And now, you have arrived, my mate, my soulmate, and you deny my declaration?" His eyes were cold fury. "I have been alone for so long. You denying me... if you must, do so, but I will let you know, it will destroy you. Mates being separated, after they discover each other... heartbreak shall ensue, I warn you. Just know that I did, if you ever decide to blame me."

     And, in a moment, the demigod's light disappeared, and so did the water. Harry stood in front of the Potter cottage, bone dry, and empty.

🌿🌿🌿

     Pansy's gut tugged her towards Hermione. The mer had a sexy smirk on her face, and when Ais got close enough, her hands curled around the human's waist, eliciting a gasp from her. The mer laughed heartily.

     "We have but three hours, before my friends return," the sunrise mer said, moving her so-human eyes so they rested on Pansy's lips. They slid down, almost physical, to Pansy's breasts, before returning to her lips. "So, what can we do in three hours? You better hurry..."

     Hermione's words were silent as Pansy greedily claimed them as her own, an unfamiliar sensation erupting in her chest. Was this lust? Perhaps. She pressed herself to the mer, gasping as the dawn tail shifted to pink legs, moving delicately through the water. Hermione's hand slid down to Pansy's hip. Both separated after seemingly hours like this, looking at each other with wide eyes.

     Instead of addressing the feeling, the mer grinned, her tongue darting out to lick her lush, stained lips. "Two hours and thirty minutes, love."

     As a Potter child, Pansy had inherited the, at the moment, very convenient gift of being able to breathe underwater. She had never used it much, preferring to stay on the shore and study, but with the mer, Pansy felt as if the water was her home, her favorite thing. So, she ducked into the water, opening her eyes to see the soft, shifting sand below. She grabbed the mer's clawed hand and brought her to the river floor, setting her down on the sand.

     Gods, she was so beautiful. Hermione's curly hair settled down on the sand, and her still sunrise pink toes curled into the soft ground, twitching with unexpected joy.

     Pansy placed a kiss on the mer's shimmery stomach, trailing lower until she nibbled on the skin on her hip. She looked up shyly to see the Monarch's expression. Her midnight eyes were shut tightly, her hands moving through Pansy's drifting hair. And, at that moment, Hermione was the most beautiful thing in the world.

🌿🌿🌿

     The next morning, shortly afterwards, the Potters awoke to a downpour. The freezing rain beat against their house's windowpanes, screeching and weeping as if an angry god. When Harry clomped into the kitchen, he found Pansy slowly chewing on a chunk of bread, lost in her head, while Petunia was dragging her candy fingers across a piece of paper to create what appeared to be an exotic flower. Harry's parents, James and Lily, were joined at the hip at the stove, James flipping eggs while Lily boiled water for tea. When Harry's mother saw him, she smiled.

     "Hello, Harry. Eggs?" She nodded at James.

     "No thank you, Mum. Is it okay if I go on a walk?"

     Her eyes crinkled as she smiled wider. "Of course, my little stag."

     You would think she would find taking a walk during a sudden storm was strange, but then again, the Potter family was a strange family. Smiling his thanks at his mother, Harry then approached Pansy, her startled out of her thoughts and responded with a grin.

     "Oh, Harry. Hi."

     "Pansy, how did you get home last night?" He lowered his voice so their parents couldn't hear.

     "I walked. Thank you for leaving me by the river, jackass." However, peculiarly enough, her thanking him sounded genuine.

     Furrowing his brow, Harry took off his socks, cast a quick warming charm, and stepped out into the cold, unfazed. Closing the door behind him, he stepped onto the grass. His feet sank into the cool mud as he headed towards the forest. In the day, the forest looked more depressing than it had the previous night; the sprites' lights had perished along with the moonlight, and the magic of the Kellon serpent had diminished, leaving the mulch, well, just mulch.

     Harry had no specific thought of where he was heading until water lapped at his feet, and when he looked up, he found himself at the exact same spot as the previous night, when he had encountered Draconus.  _Draco._

     And, once more, without thinking, and avoiding his better judgement, he leapt into the water. Instead of being met with cold, he was immediately welcomed with warm water, and sand beneath his feet. Draco's face was sour from where he floated in front of him.

     "Hello, Harry," he said nonchalantly, picking at his pale nails. "Why have you returned?"

     "I don't exactly know," the boy confessed, drawing Draco's gaze. "I just... I don't know."

     "Then leave." But before Draco could snap Harry back to the Potter cottage, the boy shook his head fervently, causing the demigod to pause.

     "Please," Harry begged, shedding his prideful exterior. "Please let me stay."

     Draco's eyes were shards of glass. "Why?"

     "I just want to stay. It's better here than alone."

     "I had the impression that you lived with your family, with four others."

     "Yes, but... that's different."

     "How so?"

     "You're not family." Yet.

     "But I should be," Draco grumbled, and to his surprise, Harry let out a laugh. "Something funny?"

     "No! But... yes."

     "You're leaving."

     "Please no! Let me stay!"

     Draco felt his heart softening under the desperate gaze of Harry Potter. "Fine. However, I want to know everything about you..."

🌿🌿🌿

     For the next month, every night, Harry returned to Draco, them trading stories and fairytales. Meanwhile, Pansy went to the tributary every night, waiting for the sunrise mer. That particular evening, she had her feet in the water, missing the warmth the Hermione brought with her. And, when the water abruptly warming, Pansy looked up sharply.

     There she was, and that time, she had come alone. The Monarch stared, expressionless, and the nude girl, her face suddenly darkening.

     "You were waiting for me," she said, and Pansy nodded.

     "Always."

     "I apologize I did not return earlier."

     "It's okay."

     "But is it really?" Hermione was good at detecting emotions, as a Monarch had to be. And Pansy's was gray.

     "No. I don't know. It's been a month, 'Mione. I know those were probably just small things, but-" The mer's mouth swallowed Pansy's next words. She lifted the girl and brought her into the steaming tributary, their heads kissed by the slight drizzle until they ducked into the water, letting the sand be their bed and the river their roof.

🌿🌿🌿

     To Harry, Draco's tales of ancient Europe had dulled to a dull mumble. Instead, the boy focused on the demigod's face. He truly was beautiful, like the moon, like a falling star. Destructive in its love. While studying him, Harry hadn't noticed that Draco had fallen silent, studying Harry in just the same way.

     Harry was the most gorgeous creature the demigod had ever seen. His eyes gleamed green in the water like emeralds set into golden skin, and whenever he opened his mouth to speak, white flame licked at his lips. His raven curls fell overlong, and the iridescent faerie wings that drifted on the current behind him made Draco's stomach quake.

     They were close, close enough that if one of them leaned forward their lips would touch, and the though sent spikes of electricity through Harry's fingertips. And, thinking of Harry's words on the first night they truly met, Draco was surprised that the boy was the one to seal their kiss.

     It started out soft, like corduroy, delicate as lace. Draco's tongue prodded the inside of Harry's mouth, and the fell to the river bottom, entwined. Soon, the kiss went fiery. Heat bit at the inside of the demigod's mouth as they fought for dominance, their nails raking stinging lines down each other's arms and their teeth scraping the inside of each other's mouths. It was passionate, it was sunlight, and it was the most wonderful thing Harry had ever done.

🌿🌿🌿

     Every night, Pansy returned to the tributary to meet 'Mione, while Harry returned to Ilvern River to kiss and talk to Draco. Like clockwork, they did this until the following summer, when the heat was turning the grass outside their cottage golden and made the Potter children and their father hiss with pleasure.

     On that particular day, 'Mione hadn't returned to Kellon for over a week. Pansy waited by the tributary every day, her heart aching for her love, for the woman she saw in the stars and in the sea and in the grass and in the words she read. And, finally, the water went hot around Pansy's legs. Pansy slowly looked up to see 'Mione, swimming slower than usually, her eyes sleepy and the pink around her legs turning white. Pansy quickly moved into the water to embrace her lover.

     "Are you alright?" she asked worriedly, kissing 'Mione's collarbone.

     The Monarch smiled lovingly. "I am sorry for having not visited you in so long. Things have been hectic."

     She was avoiding the question, and that was irritating Pansy. "'Mione, please. Are you truly alright?"

     Suddenly, the mer's face was struck with such sadness it made Pansy want to wail, to weep so many tears the tributary would become a great, roaring river.

     "No," the mer said hoarsely, her voice more grating than usual. "I am not. I... do you recall, on the day we first met, my coughing?" Pansy nodded slowly. "I am sick, Pansy, my love, and I will not last much longer. And I know I have not said it much before, but I love you, I love you like I love living, I love you like I love my people. I love you, Pansy Potter, and I do not want to let go just yet, but I must."

     And, for the first time that Pansy had ever known, 'Mione wept. For the rest of the night, they just held each other at the bottom of the river, and stared at the blurry stars through their watery protection.

🌿🌿🌿

     "Harry?"

     Harry looked up from the bird he was attempting to draw in the sand, and met Draco's gaze with a smile.

     "Yes?"

     "Would it be crazy to say... to say..." the demigod fell silent.

     Harry sat up straight, and turned to face him, his face contorting with curiosity.

     "To say what?"

     "To say that I love you?" Draco blurted, and watched with despair as Harry's face remained unreadable.

     "Yes, that would be crazy. However, I happen to agree. I love you too, Draconus, as I love the earth."

     And when they embraced, curled around each other entirely, Harry never, ever wanted to let go.

🌿🌿🌿

     For months, Pansy Parkinson-Potter made love to Monarch Hermione on the floor of the Ilvern River's tributary, exchanging whispered secrets and gasped I love you's. However, since that painful night, in which they held each other as if it were the end of the world, which to them, it was, 'Mione didn't return, but Pansy did. She sat by the tributary every night, sometimes crying, sometimes not, her feet in the freezing water. So, when one night, the water began to warm, she looked up excitedly, expecting a joyous reunion with her love.

     However, what she found was not joyous. Rather, she saw 'Mione, barely able to swim, drifting towards her, hardly a tint of pink in her tail. Pansy let out a cry and dove into the water, carefully holding her lover.

     When 'Mione's eyes opened, they were drowsy, pocked with white spots that looked like stars.

     "You are so beautiful," the mer murmured, gently placed her hand upon the girl's cheek. Pansy stifled a sob. "I love you... gods, I love you so much I can hardly breathe around you. You make me feel like I am alive."

     "Why would you come all the way here?" Pansy choked out. "Surely you would live longer if you did not take such a journey."

     'Mione smiled sadly, and her hand began to quiver. "But I would rather be with you."

     And, gently, the mer placed a delicate kiss on the girl's lips, before slumping over. Tears ran down Ais's cheeks, and she let out a wail, pressing a kiss to 'Mione's cold neck.

     And, as the water around her cooled, Pansy whispered, "Gods, 'Mione, I love you too, I love you too..."

🌿🌿🌿

     Harry, unaware of his sister's despair, gasped beneath Draco's wicked touch. He writhed, and cried out as the demigod ran his hands across his back.

     "Draco, I want you to know that I love you," Harry gasped, squeezing his eyes shut with pleasure.

     Tears running from his cheeks with anticipation of what was about to occur, Draco murmured, "I love you too, my darling. More than the world."

     Just as Draco leaned in for another, burning kiss, Harry moved away, his breath rattling.

     "Draco?"

     "Yes, darling?"

     "My name. My full name, it's Harry James Potter."

     " _Harry James Potter_ _."_

     And beneath the demigod's touch, like all mortals beneath a god's love, Harry James Potter went alight. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Questions for you to consider:
> 
> Why would Hermione get so readily involved with Pansy? Did it have something to do with her illness, or did she truly fall in love with her at first sight?
> 
> What was the real reason Draco still let Harry mate with him? As a demigod, he knows the lore and truth behind it of mating with demigods. So why didn't he say anything?


End file.
